


(Y/N) (Y/L/N) And The World of Magic

by TheEmeraldWitch



Series: Chaos Theory and Twisted Arbitrary [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Reader, Crack-ish, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other, Reader Has Powers, Reader goes through some shit, Reader-Insert, Trauma, independent reader, reader has gone through some shit, she doesnt act like a normal eleven year old, sometimes crack taken seriously, the reader is Mature™, the reader is a bad bitch, the readers mom is dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27841324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmeraldWitch/pseuds/TheEmeraldWitch
Summary: Deep in the Department of Mysteries, there is a Room that has been locked for many years. If the Minister had his way, it would've stayed locked. But the Minister can't always have his way, and it was never going to stay locked. Because the being inside The Room is a being more intelligent than any other being and more powerful than even Merlin himself.And that being is you.Or:Sometimes, on occasion, just every little while, you regret waking up from your coma.
Relationships: Blaise Zabini & Reader, Cedric Diggory & Reader, Draco Malfoy & Reader, Ginny Weasley & Reader, Harry Potter & Reader, Hermione Granger & Reader, Luna Lovegood & Reader, Minerva McGonagall & Reader, More to be added - Relationship, Neville Longbottom & Reader, Pansy Parkinson & Reader, Reader's Mom & Reader, Ron Weasley & Reader, The Golden Trio & Reader, The Slytherin Trio & Reader, the silver trio & Reader
Series: Chaos Theory and Twisted Arbitrary [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037952
Kudos: 6





	1. The Mystery

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters are kinda short, sorry :( but as it goes on it'll get longer.  
> Also, this is the original plot of the Winter Angel series, but with a reader-insert and better writing.

Your eyes snapped open. You were in a room, entirely unsure of where you were and what you were doing there. You were lying in some sort of bed, your arms crossed over your chest. The position was unnerving. It was as though the person who had put you there thought that you were dead.

You resisted the urge to call out for your father. He wouldn’t answer, you knew.You didn’t have a father.

“Mom?” You called instead, sitting up. Then, you remember: She was gone, too. Dead, from some sort of disease. The healers didn’t know what. They had never seen it before.

_“Be strong.” Your mom had told you, clutching your hand weakly. “You have more power than you should, and for that, you will face many rials. But I will always be with you.” She laid still in her bed, and you began to sob as the healers came in to take her body._

_“No! Mom, please! Come back! You can’t!”_

_But she was gone._

_And you were alone._

Shaking yourself back to the present, you stood up and studied the room around you. It was dimly lit, dark save for the few lanterns floating around the room, held up by magic.

The bed you had been lying in was made of a shiny grey metal that you thought might be silver. The sheets were black. You had been on top of them.

“Let me out!” You yelled, facing the locked double doors. “Hey!” You kept yelling until it all finally came to a head. You were young, but you were powerful, and you knew it. And you knew that someone with your power was _not_ going to be locked up like that. 

You threw out your hand, and a wave of silver light blasted open the doors. Two people in security robes pointed their wands at you. You paused to wonder whether the room was soundproof or if they had been ignoring you, before realizing that you should probably be running.

You took off down the hall, dodging multicolored bursts of light. You would’ve retaliated, but you didn’t want to hurt anyone unless you absolutely had to.

You darted out of the way of a flash of red. _A stunning spell,_ you remembered, and silently thanked your mother for teaching you how to identify spells.

Unfortunately, that dodge slowed you down just enough for the guards to catch you and bind your hands together.

You growled, glaring at them. “I want to see the Minister!” You exclaimed. 

“Well, lucky you.” One said. “That’s exactly where you’re going.”

The Minister of Magic was a stout man in expensive-looking robes name Cornelius Fudge. “Miss (Y/L/N),” He said. “We didn’t know if you were ever going to wake up.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I did. Here I am. Is there anything you’d like to say, or…?”

“You have a long history, Miss (Y/L/N).”

“First of all, it’s not that long, I’m eleven.”

“Eleven years is a long time.”

“Don’t interrupt me. Second of all, it’s not long, it’s terrible.”

“Is it?”

“My father is nonexistent and my mother died from a disease the healers had never seen before. And, oh, yeah, I was in a coma for Merlin knows how long.”

Fudge made a face as though he agreed with you. “In any case, now that you’re awake…You’re eleven, and your twelfth birthday is in two days. Should you receive your Hogwarts letter, I will have a member of the Ministry take you to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies. The key to your mother’s vault is being kept at Gringotts.”

“And until then?”

“You can stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Unless you’d rather go back to the Room-”

“I’d rather die.”

“The Leaky Cauldron, then. If you’ll follow me.”

You followed Fudge out the door of his office, and the two guards from before flanked you. You couldn’t help but wonder if they were aware that you could probably flee if you wanted to.


	2. The Leaky Cauldron

Fudge took you to Gringotts first. You’d been there a few times before. The tall ceilings and columns never ceased to amaze you.

You waited in line with Fudge. People had tried to let you go first because he was the Minister, but you refused. The line wasn’t that long.

A few minutes later, you made your way to one of the desks. “Yes?” The goblin sitting there said.

“I need the key for vault 369.” Fudge said.

The goblin raised an eyebrow at you, but nodded and pulled a small, ornate key from a drawer in his desk. 

You remembered watching this same thing when you were younger. You still didn’t know why the key was hidden behind a false bottom, but you’d figure it out one day.

“Come with me.”

You and Fudge followed the goblin to a railway. You got in the cart immediately, but Fudge hesitated, and you could tell that he had never been down to the lower levels before. Well, that, or he got carsick.

“You don’t have to come.” You told him’.

“No, I don’t trust you on your own. You’d destroy the place if I left you to your own devices.”

“I would not!” You huffed. “Look, if you’re going to join us, then come on. But get your own cart.” Fudge rolled his eyes, but got into a cart. “Oh, and if you throw up on me, I’ll blast you into next week.”

Fudge nodded, and you took off down the rail. The car sped along, you and you smiled, twisting to look behind you. Fudge was now turning distinctly pail in the low lighting.

The carts screeched to a halt a few minutes later, and you stepped out, grinning. “That was awesome!”

“That was not awesome.” Fudge said, stumbling out of his cart.

You just shrugged. “Agree to disagree.” You began to bounce on your toes. “What’s next?”

The goblin snorted at how eager you were. He pressed his hand against a large metal door, with the ornate numbers ‘369’ on it.

Gears clicked, and you watched as it created an opening big enough for someone about your mother’s size. 

You stepped through the doorway and into a veritable treasure trove of neatly organized coins and heirlooms. You grabbed a black velvet pouch from one of the hooks on the wall, and began to fill it with sickles, knuts, and galleons. You stuck the bag in your pocket, grabbing a watch on your way out the door. “Thanks.” You said to the goblin, getting back in the cart.

The goblin got in the cart in front of you, and Fudge got in the one behind you. The three of you sped back to the upper levels of the bank. 

“Thanks again!” You called as you left, smiling to yourself.

Fudge led you back to the Leaky Cauldron. There were people milling about. Quite a few of them wanted to talk to Fudge, so you moved over to the front desk.

“What’re you here for?” The man asked.

“I need a room. Either for the next few days or until the school year starts. We’ll see.”

“How come? You came in with the Minister, didn’t you? Aren’t you his niece or something?”

You snorted. “Not to my knowledge, no.” You didn’t exactly trust the Minister, either, but you left that part out. Like your mother had always said: Trust is a dangerous and valuable thing. It must be earned. And Fudge, nor the man at the counter, had earned it. You just met, really.

“Well, it’s seven sickles a night.” The man said. “I’m Tom, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tom.” You said, handing him seven sickles. “I’m (Y/N). And, um, since I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, is it alright if I pay you every morning?”

“No problem.” He handed you a key with an attached number. “Here’s the key to your room.”

“Thank you!” You said, smiling. You then immediately realized that you were wearing sweats, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and probably looked like shit. You turned to Fudge, who was talking to someone. “I’m going to go find actual clothes.” You told him. “And toiletries and whatever else I need. I figured I’d let you know, but there is no need for you to come with me. I am a very independent almost-twelve-year-old.” You turned to Tom. “If I’m not back by…” You glanced at the watch that you had wrapped around your wrist. “Let’s say six o’clock, since it’s noon, call the Aurors. I’ve been kidnapped.”

You turned on your heel and headed back to Gringotts. 

You’d need Muggle money, after all.


	3. Hogwarts™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Y/M/N) = Your Mom's Name

It was nine in the morning when you got the letter telling you that you had been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You had been woken up by the owl tapping on the window of your room at the Leaky Cauldron.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss (Y/L/N),_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than August 25._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

You had seen your mother’s Hogwarts letter before. She had framed it on a wall in her room, along with many of her other achievements. What was the most important thing to you was the list of things you needed.

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

    1. _Three sets of plain work robes (black)_
    2. _One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_
    3. _One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_
    4. _One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_



_Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk_

A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot_

Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling_

A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch_

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore_

Magical Draughts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger_

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander_

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

You stroked the owl and opened your window again. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you. Next time?”

The owl clucked and flew off.

You put on a white t-shirt and a black overall dress and threw on white socks that peeked out over the tops of your black Doc Martens. You brushed your teeth and fair, and grabbed a white crossbody purse, sticking your bag of coins in it as well as the list of what you needed for school, and putting your watch on.

Then, you sat down at the desk in your room, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen.

_Minister,_

_I’ve just received my Hogwarts letter. You said that if I got my letter you would send someone to guide me. It’s not necessary, but would be very much appreciated. If you do send someone, please reply to this letter with the place that I should meet them at. I was hoping that I could meet them at about 11?_

_Thanks,_

_(Y/N) (Y/L/N)_

You rolled up the letter and tied it with a ribbon, putting it in your purse. 

_I’ll have to go to the Owl Post Office first, then…_ You began to mentally plan out your day as you walked down into the pub.

You put the seven sickles for your night at the Leaky Cauldron behind the front desk, then waved to Tom as you walked out towards Diagon Alley. You glanced up at the wording above you, not having seen it since you first saw everything. “Diagon Alley…” You murmured. “Diagonally? Huh. I wonder if that was on purpose.”

You stepped out onto the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, beginning to make your way through the throngs of people. It was very loud, given that many people were talking to their families and friends as they walked. There was a group of kids with their noses pressed to the glass of a broom shop, staring at the newest broom. Apparently, it was called the Nimbus Two-Thousand, and it was the fastest broom ever created.

You stepped in the door of the Owl Post Office a few minutes later, wrinkling your nose as the smell of owl shit hit you.

There wasn’t a line, and you got one of the faster owls to send the letter to Fudge. He sent you a letter back just as you sat down at your table at one of the breakfast places in Diagon Alley.

_(Y/N),_

_Eleven is a sufficient time. I’ll send Arthur Weasley to meet you at Flourish and Blotts._

_Minister Fudge_

You sent the owl back to the post office, tucking the letter in your bag.

A few hours later, you were standing outside Ollivander's with Arthur Weasley. The shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters painted over the door read ‘Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.’ In the dusty window, a wand was sitting on a faded purple cushion.

You walked into the shop with Mr. Weasley, wishing that your mother was there. You banished the thought from your mind as you entered the shop, a bell ringing in the distance.

Mr. Weasley sat down on the single spindly chair by the window. The room was tiny, with wands taking over the shelves.

“Good afternoon,” A voice said.

“Hello,” You said, just as quietly. “You must be Mr. Ollivander.”

“Yes. And you are?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

The man turned back. “(Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“I remember her. Quite a powerful wand, she had. Cypress wood, phoenix feather core, eleven inches. She was a great witch.”

“Thank you.”

Ollivander nodded and turned to the back of the shop. “You inherited your mother’s talent.”

It wasn’t a question, but you responded as though it was. “I suppose we’ll have to see.”

“Hm.” Ollivander bustled about the shop, finally grabbing a wand. “Unicorn heartstring, ten inches, vine wood.”

You took the wand gently. “Just wave it?”

“Yes.”

You pointed the wand at a lamp, and it promptly exploded. “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!”

“No need to worry,” Ollivander said, pointing his own wand at the lamp. It mended itself, and you shook off the shock, handing Ollivander the wand. “Thank you, dear. Now, let’s see…Ah, yes. A phoenix feather core, beechwood, eleven and a half inches. Try this one on for size.”

You took the wand from him and immediately lost any control of your powers. Or, rather, your powers acting of their own accord.

Threads of silver light threaded their way through your hair, and you began to hover a few inches off the ground. Your eyes glowed slightly, and you smiled as you floated down. “I suppose this is the one, then.”

“I suppose it is.” Ollivander titled his head, studying you. “That’s never happened before. I ought to make a note…”

“Oh, I should tell you, then, that I am an outlier and should not be counted.”

Ollivander stopped wrapping the wand, looking up at you. “Excuse me?”

“I kind of have that usually.” You said. You held up your hand, and a ball of light appeared there. “It was acting up because of the match with my wand.”

“Oh,” Ollivander said weakly. “Oh, dear.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, thank you, dear. That’ll be seven Galleons.”

You nodded and placed them on the counter. “Thank you!” You said, smiling and placing the wand carefully in one of your bags. You waved as you left the shop, then turned to Mr. Weasley. “Now, you don’t have to come with me, because this bit isn’t required and we already have everything else, but I’d like to get an owl.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Alright, then. God, I wish this place had a map.” You muttered. “Where on _earth_ -”

“There are two different shops for owls. The Magical Menagerie, or Eeylops Owl Emporium. The Magical Menagerie has other pets, as well.”

“Magical Menagerie it is, then.”

The Magical Menagerie was a bustling store, filled with the hoots of owls, hisses of cats, croaks of toads, and many other sounds. It smelled surprisingly like nothing, for a pet shop. You thought that might be because of magic.

You began to wander around the shop, heading towards the owls. There were many in the shop, but the one you were drawn to was a black Eurasian Eagle Owl with amber eyes. It was small and definitely younger than those around it. “Hello.” You said softly. “I’m (Y/N).”

The owl clucked its beak and took a few steps forward, and you smiled. 

You decided to name her Carmilla.


	4. Actual Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, if I have my way it won't look like this next chapter, but we'll see. I'm on a new computer right now, because I broke my normal one and I'm borrowing this one, so I don't know if formatting will be different here or what. Thanks for putting up with me! :)

You woke up at seven on the morning you were set to leave for Hogwarts. The train would leave at eleven, so that meant you had three hours to get dressed, finish packing, and make one last trip to Gringotts before you left. You would get something to eat along the way, and make it to the Hogwarts Express by 10:30.

Your trunk was large and black, with silver locks. Your initials were painted in silver above the lock. It had an undetectable extension charm on it, so that you could fit more books and school supplies, as well as a healing kit.

You folded your last few robes and put them in your trunk, set a book and the healing kit on top, fed Carmilla, and turned to the end of your bed to get dressed.

You had picked your clothes out the night before. Punctuality was important, one of the many values instilled in you by your mother before her death. You picked your clothes for the train based on how you wanted people to see you: nonthreatening; a friend. So, you were wearing a long sleeved, pastel pink t-shirt, bike shorts, and a spaghetti-strapped black dress that reached your knees. Your shoes were white and black checkered vans. Truth be told, if you were trying _not_ to attract attention, maybe it was better to wear less Muggle clothing…You didn’t have time to change, though.

You left your bag in your room, slinging a pale pink crossbody purse over your head. You put the seven sickles for your night behind the front desk and left for Gringotts.

Two hours later, you were loading your trunk, Carmilla, and your bagel (chocolate chip, toasted, with plain cream cheese) into a trolley and getting ready to run straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station.

You positioned your cart and began to run, shutting your eyes tight as you reached the wall. An odd feeling passed over you, and suddenly, you were standing on Platform 9 3/4.

It was noisy, almost ridiculously so, with the sound of parents and children saying goodbye, the train whistling, and everyone loading. Pets screwed around in their cages, and you threw a small blanket over Carmilla. A thin layer of fog covered the Platform, due to the smog billowing from the Hogwarts Express. Not having anyone to say goodbye to, you made your way onto the train as quickly as you could, loading your trunk and Carmilla into one of the empty compartments and putting the trolley back, then sitting down in the compartment you had picked and opening one of the many books you had picked.

You were on your way to Hogwarts, and it felt fantastic.

The door to the compartment opened, causing you to look up from your book. A boy your age was standing there, holding a cage with a snowy owl in it. You looked at him, eyes darting from his messy black hair to the lightning-bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. Your eyes narrowed in thought for a barely-there moment, before going back to your book. 

“Is anyone else sitting here?”

You looked up again. “No. You’re welcome to sit if you’d like. It’s not like I’m expecting anyone.”

He smiled weakly and put his owl down next to Carmilla’s cage. You gently pulled the blanket off as the boy (Harry Potter, you knew, though he hadn’t introduced himself) left. Harry Potter’s owl hooted at Carmilla, and within a few minutes they seemed to have become friends.

Harry came back a few minutes later with his trunk, helped by two twins with bright red hair and even redder faces. You glanced up from your book, but otherwise ignored them, and Harry stared out the open window as the train began to move.

Another red-headed boy opened the door to the compartment. “Anyone sitting here?” He asked. “Everywhere else is full.”

You and Harry shook your heads, and the boy sat down. 

“Hey, Ron,” A voice said. The twins were back. 

“Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train. Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” Ron mumbled.

“Harry,” The other one said. “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.” The door slid shut, and you snorted.

“Bye.” Harry and Ron said.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

_Could’ve been a bit more tactful._ You thought, beginning to unwrap your bagel.

Harry nodded.

“Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes. And have you really got - you know…” He pointed at Harry’s forehead, and the green-eyed boy pushed his bangs back to show the scar. “So that’s where You-Know-Who-?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “but I can’t remember it.”

“Nothing?” Ron sounded awfully eager, and you couldn’t help but look up yourself.

“Trauma can make an event much more memorable, but you were awfully young…”

“Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” Harry said.

“Wow,” Ron sat and stared at Harry, then looked quickly out the window again.

You tuned out.

You only tuned back in at the mention of Voldemort. You looked up from your book curiously when Harry said his name, tilting your head to the side. “Huh. I didn’t think you’d say his name.” You said quietly, as Ron gasped. 

“What?” Harry asked.

“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” Ron sounded both shocked and impressed, and you couldn’t help but thing that he was overreacting. “I’d have thought you, of all people-”

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” Harry said. He seemed defensive, and you wondered what kind of household he had been in where he would need to sound like that when he made a mistake. “I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn…I bet,” He added, “I bet I’m the worst in class.”

“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.”

You nodded. “Definitely. Don’t worry about it, Harry, you’ll do fine. In fact, you’ll probably do great, so long as you keep up with your studies and all. You’re powerful.”

“How do you know that?”

“Call it instinct.”

There was a beat of silence.

“What’s your name, by the way? You never introduced yourself.”

“Oh,” You held out your hand. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Ron stared at you in shock, and you frowned at him. “What?”

“My dad led you around Diagon Alley a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, you’re Mr. Weasley’s son? I should’ve known. It’s nice to meet you. Your dad’s lovely.”

At about half-past twelve, a woman clattered past and opened the compartment door. “Anything off the cart, dears?” She asked.

You and Harry both stood (well, Harry jumped to his feet, but I digress), while Ron went pink and muttered something about sandwiches.

You followed Harry to the corridor. You both got some of everything, enough, really, for the three of you to share if Ron wanted any. 

“I haven’t had candy in ages.” You said, opening a Licorice Wand.

Harry looked more excited than you had seen him the entire trip. The whole time, he had had this kind of light in his eyes - excitement, nerves, etc. He was happy to be going to Hogwarts, you decided, as were you and Ron. But now, Harry looked more excited than ever.

“Hungry, are you?” Ron asked.

“Starving.” Harry said.

You frowned. “If you had wanted some of my bagel earlier-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I’m fine. Just hungry.”

You nodded and continued to eat your Licorice Wand.

Ron had taken out a lump package containing four sandwiches. “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.” He said, sounding disappointed.

Harry held up a pasty. “Swap you for one of these. Go on-”

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry. She hasn’t got much time, you know, with five of us.”

“Go on, have a pasty.” 

You threw a cauldron cake at Ron as well, and he dodged it, then picked it up, biting his lip and finally accepting the offers of food.

Harry was amazed by the Chocolate Frogs.

“What are these?” He asked, holding up a pack of them. “They’re not _frogs_ , are they?”

“No. But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.”

“Ooh,” You gasped, grabbing one of your own. “I haven’t had one of these since…” You stopped short. “I wonder where my card collection got off to.” You murmured. “I ought to check when summer comes.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know collect - famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

“I’m still missing Merlin and Morgana,” You told Ron. “Ironic, really.”

“I’ve got about six of Morgana, so I’ll trade you when you find your card collection.”

“Yes! I’ll send you an owl over the summer.”

“So, _this_ is Dumbledore!” Harry exclaimed suddenly.

“Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Dumbledore! Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa - thanks-”

Harry turned the card over to read the back, but when he turned it back around-

“He’s gone!”

"Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” Ron said, shrugging. “He’ll be back. No, I’ve got Morgana again and I’ve got about six of her…do you want it? You can start collecting.” 

You grinned at your own card. “Finally, I got Merlin!” You high-fived Ron, and Merlin gave you a wave from his picture. 

_~Merlin~_

_Medieval, dates unknown. Most famous wizard of all time. Sometimes known as the Prince of Enchanters. Part of the Court of King Arthur._

“But in, you know,” Harry was saying, “the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos.”

“Do they?” Ron was obviously amazed by the concept of Muggle photography. “What, they don’t move at all?” You and Harry nodded. “ _Weird!_ ”

A while into the trip, just as you, Harry, and Ron were passing woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills, there was a knock on the door of the compartment. A round-faced came in, looking tearful. “Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?” The three of you shook your heads, and he wailed, “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”

“He’ll turn up.” Harry said.

“Yes. Well, if you see him…” And the boy left.

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered.” Ron said. “If I’d brought a toad, I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.” The ugly-looking rat was still sleeping in Ron’s lap. The energy, you realized as you focused on it, felt weird. You’d have to look into it at a later date.

“He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference.” Ron groaned. “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look…” He pulled out a battered-looking wand and had just begun to raise it when a girl slid the compartment door open, followed by the same boy from before.

The girl had bushy brown hair and large front teeth, and her voice was kind of bossy. “Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it.” Ron said, but the girl wasn’t listening. She was, instead, looking at the wand Ron was holding.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”

Ron looked taken aback, began to do the spell. “Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” He waved his wand, but nothing happened.

“Are you sure it’s a real spell? Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard - I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”

Harry and Ron looked stunned at how fast she was talking, and probably because she had learned the course books by heart. You simply took it in all stride as you usually did. Besides, Hermione seemed intelligent, and you were going to need someone like that if you were to get through your years at Hogwarts. “I’m (Y/N (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Ron Weasley.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Are you really? I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_.”

“Am I?”

“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” 

You leaned slightly in Hermione’s direction. “Maybe slow down a bit,” You muttered to her. “He’s unaccustomed to all the changes. I think you took it better than he did, and given his situation…”

Hermione nodded, and you smiled. _Oh, good. Someone who understands tact, at least when reminded._

“Do either of you know what House you’ll be in?” Hermione asked, instead of continuing on her earlier tangent. "I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad…. Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

And she left, taking Neville with her.

“Whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” Ron said, tossing his wand back into the trunk. “Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.”

You nodded. “We won’t be taught animal transfiguration like that until later. And most spells are in Latin, Greek, and Olde English, not all weird and rhyme-y.”

Ron nodded to himself.

“What house are your brothers in?” Harry asked.

“Gryffindor. Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.”

“That’s the House Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?”

“Yeah.”

“What House do you want to be in?” Harry asked you.

“First of all, don’t worry about saying Voldemort. Names have power, saying it will take his power away. Not that he’s still around, but it’s a mental thing. Oh, do be careful, though. Could be linked to traumatic memories for people and whatnot.

“And, secondly, to answer your question: Slytherin or Gryffindor. I don’t think I have a chance in hell of getting into Hufflepuff - I’m not nice enough. Ravenclaw, maybe, but since they’re all such individualists, I doubt it. So, Slytherin or Gryffindor.”

Ron stared at you in shock and horror. “But-”

“Slytherin is _not_ the evil house, thank you very much.” You interrupted, before he could even begin to question you.

As if he had sensed the coming argument, Harry interjected. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’ whiskers are a bit lighter,” He said. “So, Ron, what do your oldest brothers do now that they’ve left, anyway?”

“Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” said Ron. “Did you hear about Gringotts? It’s been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don’t suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault.”

Harry and you stared in shock. Mentally, you scolded yourself for not purchasing a subscription to the _Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_.

“Really? What happened to them?” Harry asked.

“Nothing, that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught. My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don’t think they took anything, that’s what’s odd. ’Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”

You frowned. “Voldemort hasn’t been around for ages. Harry killed him off, and it’s not like he’s ever going to come back.” Harry looked uncomfortable, almost scared. “Oh - sorry. Sometimes I forget who’s who and what trauma and whose parents are dead and - it’s just a lot of information all swirling at once, you know? Hard to remember things sometimes.”

“What’s your Quidditch team?” Ron asked suddenly. 

“Er - I don’t know any.” Harry said.

“What! Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world-” And off he went, explaining Quidditch and famous games and the broomstick he would get if he had the money. You were largely uninterested, and only looked away from the window when the compartment door slid open yet again. Standing there were three boys - two of them heavy-set and mean-looking, and flanking the one in the middle.

“Ah,” You said, tilting your head towards the one in the middle - a blond, pale boy named Draco Malfoy - in a courteous nod. “It’s you. I thought I might see you eventually.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.” 

“And yet, here I am. Miraculous, isn’t it?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Is it true?” He asked. “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So, it’s you, is it?”

“Yes.” Harry said.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” Draco said.

“Of course, it is.” You said quietly, rolling your eyes.

“And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Ron gave a slight cough, hiding a snigger, while you outright laughed. “You’re not James Bond.” You said.

“I don’t know who that is, and I don’t care. You’ve always been Muggle-obsessed.”

“I was seven, and they’re practically a whole different species. Cut me some slack.”

“This my name’s funny, do you?” Draco asked Ron, who was still coughing. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” He turned back to Harry just as you rolled your eyes at Draco once more. “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He held out his hand for Harry to shake, but the raven-haired boy didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.” Harry said.

You burst out laughing. 

Draco didn’t go red (he never went red), but he did go pink. “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”

You, Harry, and Ron all stood. 

“Say that again.” Ron said. 

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Draco sneered.

“Unless you get out now,” Harry said.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs by Ron, and was immediately bitten by Scabbers, who was flung against the window and fell back asleep.

“Holy shit,” You muttered, picking up the candies from the floor. “How can he just go back to sleep?”

“No idea.” Ron said.

“That is not a normal rat.” You said as you sat back down. Draco, Goyle, and Crabbe had vanished, and Hermione took their place.

“What _has_ been going on?”

“I think he’s been knocked out.” Ron was telling Harry. “No – I don’t believe it – he’s gone back to sleep.”

You leaned over to Hermione, rolling your eyes at Ron. “There were three people who came in being assholes – Crabbe, Goyle, and Draco Malfoy. Watch out. They’re blood purists, won’t be happy with you being at Hogwarts. Basically, Scabbers, Ron’s rat, bit Goyle on the finger and then they left.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve heard of his family.” Ron said, responding to something Harry had been talking about – evidently, he had met Draco before. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Sad they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.”

“This isn’t _Star Wars-_ ”

“Can we help you with something?”

“You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“Scabbers has been fighting, not us,” said Ron, scowling at her. “Would you mind leaving while we change?”

“All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors.” Hermione sounded sniffy, and you snorted. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”

Ron glared at her as she left, and you followed behind Hermione. You changed in the small bathrooms provided, hitting your elbows about five different times each. As you were walking back to the compartment, a voice echoed across the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to school separately.”

You grabbed the last of the sweets from the compartment, stuffing some of them in your pockets, and joined the crowd stuffing the corridor. Finally, the train slowed down and stopped. Everyone pushed their way through the door, and you were standing out on a cold, dark platform. It was small, barely big enough for all of the students. While the older students made their way to where you assumed the horse-less carriages were, you followed the rest of the first years towards a tall, hairy man with a lamp. Harry apparently knew him already. “That’s Hagrid.” He said. “He’s the gamekeeper.”

The crowd of first-years followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark that you could barely see on either side of you, and no one spoke much. “Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec, jus’ round this bend here.”

The students oohed, and you with them. There was a great lake in front of you, with a high mountain on the other side. Hogwarts was perched on top of it, all turrets and towers and sparkling windows.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to the small fleet of tiny boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hermione followed you, Harry, and Ron into the boat the three of you chose. “Everyone in? Right then – FORWARD!”

The fleet of boats moved in unison, sailing across the smooth lake. No one spoke.

“Heads down!” Hagrid yelled. You and the other students all bent your heads, and the boats carried you through a thick curtain of ivy and into a dark tunnel. Eventually, you reached an underground harbor, where you clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” Hagrid asked, who had been checking the boats.

“Trevor!”

You walked up a flight of stone steps, crowding around the huge, oak front door.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”

And Hagrid raised his large fist, and knocked three times on the castle door.


	5. Hogwarts (For Real This Time, I promise)

The door swung open as soon as Hagrid knocked. A woman was standing there. Her hair was black, and she was wearing emerald-green robes. Her face was incredibly stern, and you knew that she was not someone that you would want to cross.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid said.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

She pulled the door wide, and your eyes widened with them. The room that you had been comatose in could’ve fit five times over in the entrance hall. The walls were lined with torches, the ceiling was so high that you couldn’t see it, and a magnificent marble staircase faced you, leading to the upper floors.

You followed McGonagall across the stone floor. The rest of the school was already in the entrance hall – you could hear their voices.

McGonagall began to speak. “Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Her eyes lingered on Neville’s cloak and Ron’s smudged nose. Harry desperately tried to flatten his hair, whilst you re-applied your mascara and lip gloss in a compact mirror. If you were going to be standing in front of the entire school, you were going to be making an entrance. Your mother’s voice rang in your head: _First impressions are important, darling. You can choose how a person sees you simply by how you act when you meet them for the first time._

“I shall return when we are ready for you.” McGonagall said. “Please wait quietly.”

“How exactly do they sort us into Houses?” Harry asked Ron.

“Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry looked nervous. “Don’t worry about it.” You told him. “They poke around in your brain for a bit – see your personality and what you value and whatnot – and then they sort you. That’s it.”

Suddenly, several people screaming, and Harry jumped about a foot in the air. You snorted.

“What the-?” Harry gasped, as did some of the people around you. Twenty or so ghosts had just streamed through the back wall, each of them pearly white and transparent, and all wearing clothes from different eras.

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-”

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?” A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had noticed the first years. Nobody answered him.

“New students!” The Fat Friar said. “About to be Sorted, I suppose?” At the nods, the Fat Friar grinned. “Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old House, you know.”

“Move along now.” McGonagall had come back. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.” The ghosts floated away through the opposite wall, off to join the students. “Now, form a line, and follow me.”

You followed the other first years into the Great Hall, which was more magical than how your mother had described it. It was large, lit by thousands of floating candles. Four long tables stood in the room, where the other students sat. The tables glittered with golden plates at goblets, and there was a fifth long table at the top of the hall, where the teachers sat. McGonagall led the first years there, so that you came to a halt facing the other students, with the teachers behind you. Hundreds of faces were staring at you, and your eyes scanned the room, reaching out mentally to check if there was anything weird.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside.” You heard Hermione say, and you glanced up at the ceiling. Sure enough, it was dark and dotted with stars. “I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_.”

There was complete silence in the hall as everyone stared at the hat. Suddenly, it twitched, and rip opened near the brim. It began to sing.

_“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_

_But don’t judge on what you see, I’ll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There’s nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can’t see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you’ve a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You’ll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don’t be afraid!_

_And don’t get in a flap!_

_You’re in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I’m a Thinking Cap!”_

The hall burst into applause. The hat bowed to each of the tables, then became still.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.” McGonagall said.

Rather than paying attention, you elected to think about the house that you wanted – Slytherin, or Gryffindor? You debated the pros and cons of each House as you waited. Finally, your name was called. Harry and Ron were still standing in line, while Hermione and Neville had been sorted into Gryffindor, and Draco had been sorted into Slytherin (of course).

You turned and walked up to the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on your head, and a voice began to speak.

“Interesting.” It hummed. “You were thinking about which house you wanted before you came up here.”

 _Of course._ You thought. _I weighed the pros and cons._

“You would do well in Slytherin.”

_I suppose I would. Well, I know I would. But Gryffindor is more advantageous._

“And why is that?”

_Harry Potter is in it. If I am to become his protector as I am meant to, then I should be friends with him, should I not?_

“You should. But you could still be friends with him from Slytherin.”

_Ron already put the idea in his head that Slytherins are bad. It would harder, and that’s not something I look forward to. Even if I am meant to be in Slytherin, I am better served in Gryffindor. Slytherins are just as loyal, and I would love to be one, but my purpose is better carried out if I am a Gryffindor._

“You’ve admitted that you should be in Slytherin. Why won’t you be?”

_Didn’t I already say? It will be easier for me to serve my purpose if I’m a Gryffindor._

“Exactly something a Slytherin would say.”

You argued with the hat over where you would be placed for the next ten minutes. _Put. Me. In. Gryffindor._

“You are better suited to Slytherin!”

_I don’t care! I know I’m better suited to Slytherin, but Gryffindor serves me better, and that is where you are going to put me!_

“I do not have to listen to a child!”

_That’s right. You don’t. But you’re going to._

“And why would I do that?”

_Because if you want Harry Potter live through his years at Hogwarts with a solid blanket of protection, then you’re gonna put me in Gryffindor._

“You’ll come to regret your decision.”

_Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. But if Harry needs me in Gryffindor, then that’s where I’ll be._

The hat seemed to sigh. “GRYFFINDOR!” It yelled.

You stood, and the Gryffindor table cheered as you made your way over, practically gliding. You risked a glance towards Draco.

He seemed disappointed.


End file.
